Doctor Who_ Illegal Alien - Mike Tucker [98]
He lunged at the intercom on the wall.
'This is Captain Hartmann! This is Captain Hartmann, acting on behalf of Colonel Schott...'
***
In his quarters Schott was half asleep on his bunk. Strauss waltzed scratchily around his new gramophone. He leapt from the bed as Hartmann's voice ripped through his tranquillity
'...We are under attack! I repeat, we are under attack from the Cybermen! Break out heavy machineguns! All units to the Cyberchamber! The Cybermen are to be annihilated! I repeat: the Cybermen are to be annihilated!'
What on earth...? Hartmann had exceeded his authority this time.
Donning his jacket, holstering his pistol, the old colonel marched out into the corridor, determined upon a showdown.
Outside, in the corridor, men were charging about in a frenzy of activity. The pride of the Reich armies, infantry and SS, were not to be put to flight by a bunch of machines on legs. Four men dragged a heavy, floormounted machinegun towards a nearby intersection. Others were passing out Schmeiser machineguns and grenades. Hartmann appeared from a doorway and began shouting instructions.
'Captain Hartmann!' bellowed Schott. 'What exactly is going on?'
Hartmann didn't reply but kept issuing bursts of instructions to the continuing stream of men pouring into the corridor from all sides of the complex. A young Wehrmacht private appeared around a corner, ran past Schott and up to the SS captain, breathless.
'Sir, I have to report that the assault squads are assembling at the east and west entrances to the Cyberchamber.'
'Good, said Hartmann. 'I shall lead the assault myself.'
'Hartmann!'
Colonel Schott placed himself directly in the path of the captain. 'What is happening?'
'The Cybermen are coming to life,' said Hartmann curtly.
'The man who calls himself the Doctor is reviving them. They are hostile.'
'On whose orders did he begin the revivification process?' Old Schott's face was like thunder.
'Mine,' said Hartmann. 'I suggest that you return to your quarters until we have contained the threat. Once we have shown them how we fight, the Cybermen will be prepared to listen to what we have to say. Unless of course you would like to lead the assault yourself.'
Schott looked the SS officer up and down. He looked down at his own hands, venous, liverspotted, trembling slightly. He hadn't seen action since 1918.
'No,' he said, quietly. 'No... You carry on, Captain.'
Slowly, he turned and retreated to his brandy and Strauss, and the comfort of his bunk.
Captain Hartmann stood motionless, staring at the metal double doors that separated the Cyberarea from the rest of the underground compound. Behind him was a frenzy of chaotic activity. Troops were marshalling; grenades were being passed out; a big Spandau machinegun was being dragged noisily along the tiled floor by four grunting, sweating infantrymen.
Somehow, Hartmann felt and appeared far from the noise, the chaos. He was drinking in that peculiar sense of absolute calm, of deep tranquillity, which always surrounded him like a suit of enchanted armour before a battle. The imminence of danger, of bloody conflict, worked on Hartmann like a soothing balm.
He believed, as his Führer believed, that the cause for which he fought was divinely inspired. The Cybermen were testament to this: a gift to the German nation from the gods.
What other explanation could there be? Hartmann had been in Vienna when Hitler had claimed the Spear of Longinus from among the Habsburg crown jewels. The Spear of Destiny. The spear which had pierced the side of Christ carried into battle by Charlemagne, carried into battle by Frederick Barbarossa, the unearthly power on which the Holy Roman Empire had been built. A direct channel to Heaven.
The Spear was the symbol of the great Destiny of the German people: the Cybermen would be the instruments of that Destiny.
The battle to come was a test. It fell to him, Captain Hartmann, to prove the German people worthy of the gift.
Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and slowly. In the darkness